jasmine skies
by gunpowder perfume
Summary: olette centric -- this is a story about a place in the skirts of darkness and light, twilight town. a story about its secrets, and the old mansion rising up, up, up the evergreen trees.


jasmine skies  
˚ ・ . ¸ ¸ . ¤¨ ˚ ・ . ¸

There was something about this place that she simply couldn't understand. An old mansion it was, but nevertheless beautiful. It was absolutely stunning; the red towers stretching about the evergreen trees, its purple stain-glass windows glittered against the sunset. Ivy curled around the long collapsed ivory white pillars. Remnants of the fallen stones littered the ground, while the still standing pillars stood silent, as though mourning the loss of a soldier.

She could feel it, chilling her to the bone as she stared up at the windows. A small flutter of white curtains, a pair of eyes staring down at her, the slightest creak of a loose wooden board or the faintest scratch of a crayon on paper, something, or someone, was there. But then, it was all gone.

When they first entered the mansion gates with Sora (_something didn't seem quite right, but it filled the emptiness_) Pence had hacked into the computer. It was surprising that such technology existed in a rotting mansion such as that. She looked, Olette looked, but all she found was moldy lace curtains and yellowing papers pinned to the wall. It felt strange, this place.

Some nights, she dreamed. She dreamt of the thing, or person, beyond the fluttering curtains, the creaking of floorboards, as though feet were gently stepping over them. She dreamt of the faintest scratches of a crayon on paper, and occasionally, the crayon snapping in two and falling onto the floor.

And pictures, she saw many pictures. Browns and reds and gold and blacks, softly whispered phrases (_lies?_) and people cloaked in obsidian. Darkness with glowing yellow eyes, silver bodies with sharp teeth and limbs, moving like quicksilver across the ground, she dreamt of many things.

It had always been there, the old mansion, there when she sent her hopes up into the sky (_that her prince would come_), there when it all came crashing down (_he never came_), since what went up had to come back down. Hope, it was the sort that filled the minds of young children, impossible hopes, of happy endings and ever finding that prince charming to sweep you off your feet. Those hopes, the spiraled up, up, up the sky.

It seemed to be there because she needed solace. The mansion was something that tied her to Twilight Town, like the perpetual sunset, there since she could remember, and there for perhaps a long, long time to come. It was a reassurance (_lies is the correct word, Olette_).

The mansion held its secrets, the secrets of the being behind the flutter of curtains and the indistinct smell of smoke wafting through the halls, as though something were burning. Anguished cries of denial for lost summers, pleas and wistful eyes, the mansion held all those secrets.

A lingering presence filled the mansion, something she couldn't find the right adjective to describe. Something that filled the air, bittersweet in a sense, it filled her senses, she could smell it, taste it on the tip of her tongue. The feeling was that of regrets, bitterness (_unwanted, like forced betrayal_) laced with that sense of sugary sweet (_dangerous, like a gingerbread house in the woods_), as though the mansion had seen better days. She supposed it has, seeing the state that it was currently.

Standing there isolated from the world, it emitted an aura, not entirely angelic, though not demonic. Dispassionate, for lack of a better word, she didn't know. When she stood there, the tall black gates felt shunned away by both light and dark, the middle ground, skirting the borders. It felt like twilight.

There were things the mansion showed her, she could see it. Laughter, shouts, promises, marbles, the scenes playing over and over in her head. Scenes that she had no memory of, but she did, she did when she sat by the old mansion. Trains that lead to nowhere, a climb up the station tower, and the image of someone falling down, down, down as she tried to reach down and grab him before he reached the ground.

One, two, three, four marbles glowing against the sunset, one, two, three, four colors, yellow, red, green and _blue_. Blue, blue, blue, like the ocean they never had a chance to see, so blue, blue just like the extra pair of eyes that was supposed to be there. One, two, three, four pairs of eyes, green, hazel, brown and blue, sky blue, summer blue; blue, blue, blue.

Four, four, it used to be four. Four voices, four different sets of laughter, four ice-creams, four train tickets, it was four, four, four. Not three, four, four children, three boys for her to nag on, not two. Four, four, four, the number hammered into her mind. It felt right with Sora there because there was supposed to be four.

One girl, three boys. One responsible, one impulsive, one level-headed, and the last quiet, when had that been? When had they been four? They had been three for as long as she could remember, since kindergarten when Olette first met Hayner and Pence. Three, just three, a trio, a trinity, a triad, the Three Musketeers, and they had always been like that.

Once, two, three marbles glimmering in the sunset, one, two, three colors, yellow, red and green, it had been. Not blue, never blue, blue like the ocean they never had a chance to see. One, two, three pairs of eyes, green, hazel and brown, all earth colors, it was never summer blue; blue, blue, blue.

Three, three, it still is three. Three voices, three laughs, three ice-creams on a hot day, three train tickets away from home, it was three, three, three. Not four, three, three children, two boys for her to nag on, not three. Three, three, three, the number screamed in her face, the truth. It wasn't supposed to feel right when Sora was there.

The mansion had its secrets, secrets of a girl hiding behind the flutter of the curtains, of a boy missing from a group of four that was supposed to be three but wasn't. Fire from the basement, blazing flames that grew and diminished within seconds of each other, fire that was angry.

Secrets of the fallen, tall and mighty that toppled over their feet, heartless beings, innocent blood spilled across the floor. Numerous secrets, little ones, big ones, the mansion had seen it all, rising above the evergreen trees. Secrets of forgotten memories and fake ones, promises never fulfilled and heroes who never came back home, it held it all.

And a mirror, a mirror of the sunset town, one where there were four certain people. Not three, but four, four distinct faces, four distinct laughs, four, four, four. Four names, Olette, Hayner, Pence, and him—Roxas—with blue, blue, blue eyes and his quiet presence. Yellow, green, red, blue, four colors all in a blur, and with a soft chuckle, she smiled. Smiled like there is no tomorrow.

Because somewhere, somewhere out there, she knew whenever he was, he was thinking of them. As long as she thought about him, the boy with blue, blue, blue eyes would never fade away, never, never, she promised. She promised… A tear slipped down her cheek as she leaned against the black gates, staring at the fallen pillars.

In the skirts of darkness and light, Twilight Town held its own secrets. It held secrets of a mansion full of enigmas, a witch standing behind the flutter of a curtain, a man that conjured fire up with the snap of his fingers, and a boy with blue, blue, blue eyes. A forgotten boy or perhaps not really forgotten at all.

These secrets, like hope, were being sent up into the sky, swirling up, up, up, higher and higher.

* * *

**afterword**: hrm. exploring what would happen if i brought both of my different styles together. very confusing, but i liked it.

original kh cast & disney characters © square enix/disney  
other copyrighted material © their respective owners  
text © waraenai 2008


End file.
